The Raccoon, the Detective, and the Flower
by ShybeanPotato
Summary: Set after S2. The story has more of a look into the Order of the Clock Tower that was mentioned. The story continues along with the manga and focuses more on Ranpo and Edgar Allan Poe. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fic. Just watched Bungo Stray Dogs and thought why not. IT is set after S2 of the anime or chapter 37. There is Edgar/Poe ship I if you squint, like really hard. Rated M for later chapters. And all rights go to their respective owners of course. Wouldn't be writing fic if not eh.

 _To my dearest friend Edgar,_

 _I pray that you are well and are near the completion of your novel for your...oh how do I put this? 'Friend' shall we put it? As much as I would love to tease or spend time on pleasantries I first must protest that you always absolutely insist, much to my dismay, of communicating via letter. No matter how beautiful your cursive, do 'email' or 'text' elude my intellectual equal? Personally, I'd have to say yes..._

 _I hope it doesn't come to your downfall._

 _I have been informed that we, the OCT, will scatter ourselves across Japan whilst working alongside the Rats in the House of the Dead to ensure the Guild's destruction. I, myself, hold doubts whether we can trust these rats, I'm more than certain an infestation is to occur. But you and I are cats among the pigeons, and it is not our place to comment on vermin._

 _But this is where my letter comes into play, it is so that you may escape. Your foolish leader wishes to burn The Moby Dick to the ground. Run, find a safe haven, stay safe._

 _This letter may be intercepted or delayed, so please please just...rely on your instincts and survive. Please._

 _Yours sincerely EBB._

 _X_

 _P.S "I know a word of letters three; add one and none there will be." The answer is one. Your riddle was too similar to the last one my silly friend. And as such, my response is:_

 _Brothers and sisters, I have none, but that man's father is my father's son._

A young girl of age fourteen stands apprehensively in front of a door, with the words 'Armed Detective Agency' engraved onto the brass plaque sitting atop it. Sparing a glance at her friend who nods encouragingly in turn. She faces forward, trembling slightly, gulping, and then opens the door…

 **BANG BANG BANG BANG**

The scene reveals party streamers falling towards the ground with the faint smell of smoke from party poppers held by four members of the detective agency. The rest were standing behind them congratulating her, with the exception of the great detective who is also eating pocky.

"Cheers!" the detectives cheered whilst raising their glasses in celebration.

The great detective is enjoying the food that has been prepared and laid out. Observing the others who are similarly taking delight in the food, drinks, and their friend's company. The previously mentioned friend otherwise known as Atsushi is found to be conversing and profoundly apologizing to miss Haruno and Naomi, that is until Tanizaki arrived crushing poor Atsushi's shoulder. The great detective chuckles to himself. It was foolish enough to hurt Tanizaki's sibling, why make things worse and bother bringing it up?

Still! Even when relaxing with the group one must never stop observing, watching; especially a detective as great as this one. Whose sole being, relies on Ultra Deduction! It must be ready at all times to deduce to the finest of details.

During the celebration the door opens ever so quietly, a man coming in ever so hesitant. "Ranpo..?" the man asks cautiously, revealing himself to be Edgar Allan Poe the great American detective(!) with his raccoon draped across his shoulders, shuts the door just as softly. "I've brought the new manuscript you said you wanted to read on the phone..." he trails off.

"Oh. It's you! Come over here!" Edogawa Ranpo responded loudly, and curtly. Starting to bustle towards his new friend, and _near_ intellectual equal.

"Is it really fine for me to be here?! I am from an enemy organi-" Edgar starts to ask, to clarify it was _truly_ okay, but alas was cut off by his brasher counterpart.

"REALLY? I'll be right back! You stay right here!" Ranpo shouts pushing Edgar to the chair in the back, not caring of his response. Edgar wouldn't remain alone for long because without missing a beat the sweet, plain country boy appears before Edgar and bends down to be at eye-level with Edgar (but being short he needn't bend far) "Would you like a drink?" Kenji asks politely but clearly so as not to be drowned out by the crowd.

"Umm...what is appropriate for me...No...May I have what that person over there is having, please...Actually, what do people usually order in times like this?" Edgar mutters trailing off, failing to be assertive enough and ends up simply being drowned out by the rowdy bunch.

" **I'm sorry I can't hear you over all the ruckus,** " Kenji says as assuringly as possible, hoping to ease an answer out of the man. As, if one is sincere in their question (be it a cow or person) then people will always be sincere in turn. Or so Kenji Miyazawa believes.

"...I don't need anything."

The moment he utters those words, he is left by his lonesome.

"Ranpo...Is this some sort of interrogation…?" Edgar asks to himself, knees curled up to his chest and Karl sitting atop his head. Clearly, a pet peeve of Poe (or anyone for that matter) is to be invited to a party and then ignored by the lone person he knows. Karl provides no comfort.

 _Tick tick tick tick_

5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. 30 minutes. 1 hour. 2 hours pass…"They seem to be having fun, huh, Karl?" Edgar sighs. Seeing as Edgar will continue to be ignored in his dark, lonely gloomy corner he pulls out, from the inside of his black long-coat, the letter from _her_.

Edgar breaks its wax stamp.

As Edgar gently removes the letter from the envelope, which bears the wax seal of a, now, broken raven, the paper itself is delicate and smooth, with unusually high resistance to bleeding and feathering; perfect for calligraphy. Yes, Edgar knows paper this paper well as it was from the notebook he had gifted to her, his closest friends, his allies, or anyone he thought worth keeping in touch with. Often considered to be antiquated himself, Poe merely enjoys the tactile sensation, scent, and love books give him.

" _To my dearest friend Edgar-_ "

Sitting in the corner Edgar softly chortles to himself about his dear friends clear exasperation towards his insistence of only answering via letter with distinct memories of being badgered even by Sir Francis who had the nasty habit of leaving a new, cold, unfeeling phone after **every** interaction between the two, but the months had even worn down Sir Francis when he finally threw his arms in the air and admitted defeat. Edgar would never say it out loud, but it was a victorious day.

However, the slight quirk of Edgar's smile didn't last long when the letter became more serious in tone. Edgar had certainly lucked out in surviving as he had, in fact, finished his novel and challenged the great detective, his nemesis, his reason for being, his reason for shame for the past six years. Poe has come to terms with the child detective...in his own way.

Edgar has carefully tucked the letter back to the safety of its sleeve and is using the back of the envelope to make a start on the riddle, but soon finds that his precious Karl has been whisked away and is being coddled by the young girl, Kyouka. "Karl….!" Edgar slams his possessions on the desk and runs towards his friend, only to wilt away, far too timid to break through the crowd and put **him** back in **his** arms.

After being on the receiving end of much love and attention, Karl decides he's had enough and jumps out of Kyouka's embrace and scuffles back to his big friend. Poe scoops him up and guides him to his shoulder where Karl climbs up and makes an approving squeak. "Ummm, we should...go," Edgar starts awkwardly, unsure of how to leave in these situations. "I'm sorry we didn't get to talk Ranpo...I'll try harder next time. We can even try talking about the manuscript... which is on the table...by the way." Edgar mutters starting on his long rant to unintelligible mumbling, a faint blush creeping up on his face from embarrassment.

"Huh? What!? Speak up!" Ranpo shouts into his ear. "I think, Ranpo, what you mean to say is 'I'm excited to catch up with you soon! No no, it's **my** fault we didn't talk. I look forward to reading your manuscript.'right?" Dr. Yosano asks rhetorically with fervent fake joy but is obviously trying to prompt the immature man.

"Whaaat? Yeah. THAT. Whatever you just said I s'pose. See ya~" Ranpo spits out, in reality, he is more interested in eating the candy he's holding than seeing off his new friend.

Edgar Allan Poe takes his leave of the Armed Detective Agency with Karl resting atop his shoulders, worn out from all the excitement and attention. Two important items sit upon the table, one a gift intended for his intellectual counterpart; the other, forgotten, a precious message from a confident and inspiration. He'll remember in the middle of the night when he's asleep, in bed, in America. Probably.


	2. Chapter 2

The great detective's face is resting upon the newly polished, bench adjacent to the bar with sweet juice to the side; his companions are dozing in the plush booth nearby. The bandage-wasting excuse of a man's head is lolling back, neck resting on the apex of the seat, idly consuming his coffee. The rustic, rural boy is already dozing off, and the overprotective brother is making no effort to stir his listless friend. The ever so sweet, ever so terrifying doctor is lazing around sedately. Raising her arms up, stretching, letting each bone crack as need be, and, content with the results, allows her body to slump against the wall with satisfaction.

The sound of the door swings open, a sound so familiar it's even recognised in their dreams, only to reveal the hero that saved the day. The sweet, naive tiger. "Everyone, here's a new request!" Atsushi starts with an upbeat, can-do attitude. The near destruction of Yokohama evidently hasn't fazed the boy at all. "Anyone who's interested?" he ponders, looks around and only now notices the lethargy of the group.

"Pass." the extraordinary (might I add) detective responds without missing beat, face-planting back to his original position, becoming one with the bar's bench once more.

"So drained…." Tanizaki mumbles.

"It's burnt-out syndrome." Dazai starts with his arm reaching out towards his coffee but because he is vacantly staring at the ceiling, fumbles in his effort to reach the porcelain cup. "Since the establishment of the Guild war, it was a fierce battle..." Dazai tapers off, having finally found the desired coffee he brings it to his lips and takes a content sip, allowing the bitter brew to envelop his tastes buds.

"Speaking of which...where is Kunikida-san?" Atsushi wonders, only now, noticing the lack of his senpai's presence (indeed not the most observant person is he?). "Upstairs." Dazai's face scrunches in up in displeasure. "Not sure why, but he's full of energy."

"..." Atsushi, mouth agape, couldn't even formulate a response. Because if you listen carefully, you could the clack, clack, clacking of the keyboard as Kunikida smashes each key energetically full of zest. After the lull in the conversation, Dazai gestures for the waitress.

"Ma'am, seconds please." Dazai holds up his coffee cup, index finger curled around the handle with the thumb resting against it, third and fourth finger leaning against the base of the cold porcelain providing support. "Sure." the waitress replies heading back behind the counter to grab the pot.

"Ma'am, curry!" Ranpo demands, smiling naughtily. "Yes, yes, the sweet kind, am I right?" she replies indulging the child of a man. "Ma'am, do you have anything to raise one's spirits?" Tanizaki asks gravely _really_ not doing well. "We don't have any hangover medicine." the waitress responds quickly but well-mannered.

The server looks towards Atsushi, gesturing for him to come sit down, "Excuse me for causing any trouble." he says apologetically, moving to join his friends. "Oh, it's no good for a young person to hold back. Look at Dazai-chan. He's buying everything on credit today as well. Even though he hasn't paid for six months." she laughs cheerily...perhaps a bit _too_ much.

"Ma'am, you're the best lady in the world." Dazai smiles while enjoying the scent of his brew; maybe he can flatter her into ignoring his obviously overwhelming debt.

"Cut it out, you. You say that to everyone!" the waitress chuckles, lightly 'tapping' Dazai's head sending it smashing into the table and his yet to be enjoyed coffee on top of his head, spilling through his locks. The waitress, chuffed with her handiwork, gives a knowing smile while heading back to behind the counter to serve the great detective his sweet curry. The tears that streak down Dazai's blank face compares to none. Or maybe it's the coffee?

"Everyone, it's a report from the military police." Atsushi starts heading towards the group, shifting the open file so he can readjust the enclosed one tucked between his right arm. "After the destruction of the guild, there's been an influx of overseas crime organisations aiming for their fortune."

"In any case, *slurp* aren't those guys just bored?" when Ranpo finishes his question, another large sluuurp can be heard. To really add to the conversation.

"Actually, I saw a survivor from the guild nearby yesterday." Atsushi was, of course, referring to Lucy where he had made brief eye contact before she had scurried off 'round the corner. "But she ran away...I saw that she was carrying a metal box." he looked down with a mixture contemplation and worry. "Could it be for the sake of getting revenge on the agency? They joined with a criminal organisation to use a bomb or something in this building..." Atsushi trails off, solemnly with a swirl of thoughts clearly troubling him. He didn't know what to think.

The sweet curry is carefully placed before the great detective, with the waitress mumbling a distinct 'Oh my' in concern. Her homely manager picks up on this.

"Danger is...the same as the bitterness of coffee," he says, eyes downcast looking through the thick, rectangular lenses at the coffee pot he holds in his hands carefully. The placement and rate of the sweet coffee going into it's white, porcelain mug to ensure no coffee was lost or dirtied the dear cup. "For someone who has made preparations...that is also a flavour." he finishes, giving a small smile, as the coffee has reached the precise level, the balance of the dark roast was perfect.

"As expected of the manager who's specialised in the bitterness of coffee for thirty years," Tanizaki adds on, to further show off their coffee guru.

"He's a man whose hands will still hold the scent of coffee even after washing them with soap," Ranpo says with tangy breath, yet sniffs his hands in curiosity, despite knowing the answer, only to find the distinct scent of sugary sweetness lingering on his fingertips. "As for other unique skills...he has none." is how Ranpo finished, curt as ever. Rude.

"Refined. An unskilled man is putting on airs." Yosano quips, seeing as all are teasing the man.

"..." Atsushi doesn't know how to respond, how could they be so rude? Not picking up that they are all playing a mean yet well-intentioned game.

* * *

"If you think about it...isn't it bad to have a place to relax on the first floor like this?" Atsushi asks innocently enough.

'Stop thinking then' is all the _grown-up_ detective rudely thinks.

"That sort of thing..." Atsushi was most likely going to say '...leads to all sorts of problems, don't you think?" but stopped short in the doorway with Dazai, eyes wide. Scanning the room in shock.

Inside the beloved café is a different story. The booth's seats are ripped to shreds, their stuffing lining the floor beneath the fixed, wooden tables. The wooden chairs for the counter for small tables are smashed, the wood splintered all around and if not broken or wrecked laying upturned across the decimated floor. No glass light or lamp survived, each shattered. The glass cabinet behind holding the expensive drinks is behind recognition, impossible to tell one drink from the other as their liquids pool together in a disgusting colour and fumes.

The others all start to pile in, unsure how to process the destruction around them. "Manager!" Atsushi shrieks once he noticed the man writhing in pain, glasses were thrown off from the struggle; runs towards the man who will always smell of coffee...and blood. Dazai has noticed the waitress and is crouching down trying to coax her out with Ranpo standing behind.

"A group of strangers wanted to know where the agency members were..." she manages to crawl from beneath the table, which once provided her protection from the criminals. "Dazai-san!" Atsushi calls urgently, face contorted in horror.

"The manager's finger!" Atsushi exclaims. Dr Yosano rushes over to provide support to the man, whose fingertips that were once beloved by the scent of his various roasts now bled out covering his other hand as he applied as much pressure as his shaking hands could and the floor. The stain will never leave either, one soaked in the blood of a man in pointless pain; the other currently living with the feeling where the pliers had once been, clamping and crushing his finger off having experienced the sensation as his bone was deformed, pulverised. The sound **CRUSH** **RIP** **CRUNCH** **SNAP** never leaving his thoughts for the next hour, day, week, month; with it wholly consuming his dreams.

"It isn't….a significant injury. Everyone is safe...I'm glad for that," he says ever so softly, justifying why it was _okay_ , why **he** was missing a finger. It was _okay_.

No, it wasn't.

Atsushi rose from where he was seated. It was not okay. The members of the agency didn't say a word to each other, just headed towards the door. Tanizaki made eye contact with Yosano, she nodded in turn and he heads out the door following after Atsushi, Ranpo, and Dazai who had left earlier, heading back up the stairs to the detective agency.

* * *

The door slams open to the Detective Agency and everyone in the room snaps their heads towards the entrance, shocked by the sudden abruptness of the door opening.

"What happened?" Kunikida asks his glasses glinting and trying to keep a cool head, Dazai bursting into the room would earn a scold, but all four of his companions is reason enough to be worried.

"The café below was ransacked by some organisation and the manager...he...was injured." Atsushi spluttered out, upset by the whole ordeal. "They said they were looking for us." Atsushi finished. The members that were too busy to go to the café or who had just come back were shocked, rage filling up the room for the waitress and manager, for some their acquaintance, confidant, their _friend_.

"Then, let us waste no more time!" a powerful, gruff voice affirmed.

"President!" Kunikida exclaims, with several others uttering those same words. "Yes, sir! Alright, Tanizaki you grab all relevant CCTV of the surrounding area! Kenji witnesses! Atsushi prepare these documents!..." Kunikida barks assuming a position of temporary authority to direct the others.

Everyone scrambles around seemingly running around like headless chickens but in actuality, there was precise order in chaos, everyone knows where they should be and what they should be doing. Kenji having already left to get witness statements from people in the area and to ask his 'friends' any group that may know anything. Most of the others all on their computers rapidly firing away on their keyboards. Even Dazai is pitching in; you cut off the source enrage the beasts.

Ranpo, seated in his chair, sits by the window overlooking the street, his eyes glower to the people by the café. Yosano is outside assisting the paramedics as they tend to the waitress and the manager is being prepared to be taken to a hospital to care for his missing finger and help regulate the pain.

Well, they _did_ want the Agency, now they were going to get it full force, the team ready and merciless. Having put the relevant documents together, Haruno hands the most current file to Ranpo. "Here you go, sir." Haruno bows quickly and rushes back to the others.

Ranpo carefully reads through the file letting each point and thought settle beneath his skin, disregarding no idea, accepting each item no matter how minuscule into his mind.

 **CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK**

The sound of the president's geta can be heard on the wooden floorboard as he makes his way toward Ranpo. Upon hearing the sound associated with someone he geniuinely respects, raises his head already guessing what the elegant, dignified man wished him to do. To confirm his suspicions the president merely pointed to his eyes, gave him a nod, and patiently waits.

"This agency can't last minute without me!" Ranpo snickers face forming a wicked devious grin.

"Ultra Deduction!" Ranpo cries out, whipping out his glasses and putting them on his face. Brows furrowed in deep concentration, eyes opening to reveal dark green iris', his grin greater than the Cheshire cats. The information flowing in front of him, each tendril of data stringing together in a beautiful spiders web, everything accumulating with the graceful flow; **this** is the beating heart of the agency, its breath, this indescribable mind.

Once the information is sewn together, he looks towards the president and takes a deep breath.

"They are a wanted group that calls themselves 'The Park', while they are a criminal group they don't run with any clear defined plans. Their base is changed every four days to conceal themselves from the international police; the base is heavily fortified with 18 heavily armed criminals with surveillance cameras. They have mobile connections to other gangs in the area as backup. They are overly confident because they make sure they only have one door as their entrance, the door heavily resistant." Ranpo states, explaining himself to the president. The president called for everyone's attention, so they were also updated.

"But _where_ are they?" Atsushi asks interrupting the great detective before he finished.

Ranpo pauses, giving a look at the younger man. Atsushi shuts up and closes his mouth to let Ranpo finish. Ranpo walks over the map pinned up to the side on the wall.

"You will find them...here," Ranpo says pointing to the map. The detective agency gathers the main cast, and they set off to overthrow the little king.

He **must** give them their thanks, Ranpo thinks to himself and of the group seeing as, well, their motivation was finally back.

* * *

"Ahh, it's finally quiet." Dazai gives a content sigh. The detective agency members are back in their dear café, after it being lovingly restored to it's previous condition before the devastation laid before it. Dazai lounges against the seatheadsetet against the soft, cushion headrest; coffee left to rest in front of him. Tanizaki to the side, setting his palm to his face leaving his other hand to encircle the mug holding his mocha. Yosano for once, sitting perk, slowly sipping her espresso. With sweet little Kenji patiently waiting for his brew.

The great detective, however, sits by the booth on the corner. Never straying or sitting elsewhere, everything has it's place and Ranpo's is there with a sweet drink to be placed in his hands. Atsushi walks in, later than the group, large bag in hand and heading towards Ranpo.

"I've brought the items you asked for on your desk Ranpo." Atsushi says gently to the _amazing_ , non-gifted detective. "Ah, thanks. Just leave it to the side." Ranpo replies outstretching his index finger, pointing to the empty seat beside him.

"So in the end, what exactly is the guild's fortune?" Tanizaki starts, giving a contemplative look as he brings up his mocha two fingers laced between the handle. "There's no such thing." Dazai yawns, the back of his head still resting against the cushion.

"There isn't?" Atsushi double checks, heading towards the booth.

"Someone has already collected it all." Dazai says looking to the left, his eyes dark with the memories of the demon that is **Fyodor Dostoyevsky**. "Perhaps...they were manipulated by that person's false information." Dazai thoughtfully says, planning his next moves on how to deal with _that_ man.

"That reminds me – in the end, that survivor from the guild..." Atsushi thinks thoughtfully, hand resting on his chin, seeing as the previous conversation has died off. With excellent timing, said guild survivor walks in carrying a large box with supplies. "Oh? Good work today." The waitress encouragingly chirps about their new employee.

"Let me introduce you." the waitress gestures to the door, Kenji peers around to see their new recruit with Dazai leaning out slightly, though not encumbered by the farm boy, rests on his elbow. "This is our newcomer..." Atsushi's mouth is agape is unable to articulate anything resembling a word.

Lucy Maud Montgomery. Thick, dense, red braided hair behind her back, her fingertips curled around the handle which contains precious cakes, her eyes locked with the naive were-tiger. Blush slowing creeping up, enveloping her face.

 **SMACK**

Atsushi's face now meets the now, not so precious cakes. "Oof!" he shouts failing to stop the box from smashing into his face, Lucy uses this time to escape behind the counter.

"Why are you running away?!" he screams face red, burning from the impact but starts to chase her, hoping he can catch before she goes into an employee's only section. "Because reasons!" she cries back, having successfully escaped in the safe 'break-room'. The waitress is not impressed having lost several cakes to the incident, hands the deformed ones to Ranpo and heads in the back to scold the young girl.

"Haha, score! Free cake! Inform me when you come by Atsushi-kun and time it so she is here making deliveries, it works in my favour." Ranpo cheers not even asking Atsushi but out-right demanding it, his creed 'all's well that ends well for me' holding true. Atsushi sighs and just goes to sit down besides Kenji.

As the others prattle on the great detective Ranpo, after taking great delight in his cake, pulls out a small chunk of the manuscript aiming to make a start on it. In brief discussions with Edgar, his American counterpart who _is_ good but not _as_ great, has been making plans to create several novels where they trap enemies or more specifically gift users into the novels to keep them at bay for as much time as possible. This particular manuscript was about a world of extremely, and to the point of sickeningly violent serial killers but what makes this world special is that it is specifically designed to make sure gifts cannot be used.

 **TICK TICK TICK TICK**

Engrossed in the novel Ranpo circles errors and useful points that could be used across several novels not noticing the time that has gone by or that his team-mates have all left one by one, all giving up on him responding even after bidding their farewells, well, except for one.

The one that dons bandages as part of their main clothing choice. Dazai walks towards the counter sitting in the spot left to the bag, so that the object sits inbetween them. Peering into the bag Dazai notices a letter laying beside the leftover manuscript.

' _Edgar Allan Poe_ ' are the words strewn across the envelope with what looks to be the start of a riddle and the attempts to unravel it scribbled on the side written in spencerian, obviously someone else's script and obviously Poe; the person who wrote the letter itself though, has the most beautiful round-hand cursive, each letter done deliberately and with much care for the mister Edgar Allan Poe. It couldn't be...no, impossible, Dazai had seen Ranpo's chicken-scratch handwriting before. It was most likely a lady friend of Edgar.

Dazai snaps his fingers in front of the engrossed detective hoping to break him from his stupor, with little success. Ranpo just looks on silently, circling another point and brings the pen back to the side ready to edit. So Dazai simply places the letter where Ranpo is intently gazing at.

"Oi. Move the paper." Ranpo huffs, annoyed that his concentration and steady pace is now broken. "Then explain why you have a letter addressed to Poe." Dazai smiles innocently yet holds down the letter firmly, so when Ranpo tries to push it the side it won't budge.

"He left with the manuscript, was gonna hand it back when I saw him next. I left it on the desk, Atsushi must of mistakenly grabbed it when I asked for the manuscript." Ranpo explains very briefly on each point and not wishing to waste more time grabs Dazai's wrist pushing it away and continues on.

Dazai gives grins a mischievous grin, using the opportunity of Ranpo pushing his hand. "Whoops." was all he said as he slipped the letter from it's sleeve. "It fell out."

Ranpo just sighs and gives him a look. But to say that he wasn't curious would be a lie.

"As I went to put it away the letter opened up and I just will happen to glance at it." Dazai 'predicts', exaggeratedly doing each movement. "Don't you want to know what was written to him? Want to know if he talks about you with others? He may even compliment you." Dazai says goading the detective, knowing full well he can't resist compliments to feed his ego, even if the praise is deserved seeing as he has no gift.

Ranpo pauses. Then smiles "Well if it's about **me** , then I have absolutely _no_ choice than to _accidentally_ read it." he grins, snatching the words from Dazai's hands.

Dazai _really_ pulled tooth and nail to convince Ranpo but, _somehow_ , he managed.

Dazai shifts the bag to the floor and takes residence in the now empty chair. Both men scrutinise the letter intently, Ranpo searches for any mention of his beautiful self and Dazai hyper focuses on the 'Rats in the House of the Dead', more curious to know this 'EBB' and what their connection is to the Rats, they could be a useful pawn or at the very least can be used to draw out their enemy.

After finishing the letter, both contemplate in silence.

"I think we need to 'catch up' with your friend Poe." Was all Dazai said in the end. Ranpo gives a quick nod, gathering his items as well as the stray letter and heads off.

Edgar shivers in the crisp morning and, unfortunately for him, not because of the cool morn'.


End file.
